Chapter Text
Rowan gets out of bed for the first time in well— 2 weeks
He was tired, oh so tired, he wished to lay for centuries but his parents are calling him downstairs
He is met with a scolding he can't really remember well
"ROWAN! WHY THE FUCK AREN'T YOU LISTENING TO US ANYMORE?! THINK NOW THAT YOU'RE AN ADULT YOU CAN LEAVE US AND GO ON WITH YOUR LITTLE "INDEPENDANCE"?!?! HAH! DON'T FORGET WHO RAISED YOU! YOU MIGHT AS WELL BE DEAD ALREADY WITHOUT US!—"
...
How much longer was it? Ah, he doesn't even remember
Well, since when was his dad so vocally aggresive? Does that even matter?
He dares to even sigh and the scolding gets even longer, though he only catches four words clearly even when tuning it out
"I WISH YOU DIED"
...
Oh?
Well that one hurt. A lot.
He clenches his fists and hides them away behind his back, the pain makes it a bit better.
But it doesn't stop him from being upset.
As liquid forms in his eyes, he feels dizzy with all the scolding too
But he doesn't care.
He'll be fine, he doesn't even love his dad
He doesn't care about what he says.
...
He doesn't care.
He goes back upstairs to his bed, and lays back down on it, it's comfortable, so oh so nice.
He pulls his pants down to reveal his thighs and, reaching out to his bedmate, his sharpest knife, he grabs it and digs it into his thigh, not enough to make it difficult to walk but enough to make it bleed our rapidly as he giggles at the sight
"How beautiful"
And he's happy again, finally happy again, he does it again and again on both his thighs, leaving deep, bloody marks
"Beautiful beautiful marks they'll leave hehehehh"
He then hugs his favorite plushies, bleeding into it, and falls asleep relatively quickly and happily